Heckel Casey
Authors: James Hoch
HECKEL CASEY
James Hoch
HECKEL CASEY
Copyright © 2012 by James Hoch. All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. And any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead (or in any other form), business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
FIRST EDITION ebook
Imajin Books
May 18, 2012
ISBN:
978-1-926997-55-1
Cover designed by Sapphire Designs:
http://www.designs.sapphiredreams.org
Praise for
Heckel Casey
"James Hoch has a way of bringing Heckel to life with captivating and clean writing.
Heckel Casey
is a must read post-apocalyptic thriller that you won't want to miss. Looking forward to more from Mr. Hoch." —Jeff Bennington, bestselling author of Reunion
"
Heckel Casey
by James Hoch is the classic struggle between good and evil. Reminiscent of Stephen King's
The Stand
, the story follows Heckel and Sela across the country as they gather an army of end-of-the-world survivors for a showdown with Madeline, the devil's hand-picked protégé. Hoch proves to be a master storyteller with an impeccable sense of pacing. He uses his characters' conversations to fill in back story and increase tension. As a result,
Heckel Casey
grabs the reader from prologue to epilogue. I look forward to a sequel." —Roxanne Smolen, bestselling author of
The Amazing Wolf Boy
"The fight between good and evil has progressively become more and more blatant in our past decade; you have brought it further to light by allowing the reader to become a part of 'it,' to live the battle against 'it' through the lives and eyes of Heckel, Sela and friends, if only metaphorically, and then to empower the reader with the antidote—HOPE!…Your book is easy to read, hard to put down, well written, an excellent novel for these troubling times." —Bev Suszek, library technician
To my family
Acknowledgements
Zoe Shepherd, wife, reviewer, editor, and soul mate. Thank you for all your love and support. I'm so thankful I have a spouse who loves being scared as much as I do.
Cheryl Tardif, publisher, acquisitions editor, marketing genius. Thank you for believing in
Heckel Casey
. Bringing him to life with your assistance has been quite rewarding. It is indeed an honor to be a part of the Imajin Books family.
Patricia La Barbera, editor. Your work must be a little like a doctor. You diagnose a problem and present a remedy. You made Heckel stronger! Thank you.
Silence
There are some qualities—some incorporate things,
That have a double life, which thus is made
A type of that twin entity which springs
From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade.
There is a two-fold Silence—sea and shore-
Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places,
Newly with grass o'ergrown; some solemn graces,
Some human memories and tearful lore,
Render him terrorless: his name's "No More."
He is the corporate Silence: dread him not!
No power hath he of evil in himself;
But should some urgent fate (untimely lot!)
Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf,
That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod
No foot of man,) commend thyself to God!
—
Edgar Allan Poe
Prologue
It wasn't a nuclear bomb.
It wasn't a pandemic.
It wasn't a plague.
It wasn't another world war.
It wasn't even global warming or a new Ice Age.
No, the end of civilization, our beloved society as we know it, came on gradually; and I remember when it started. Better yet, I know who was responsible.
In the year 2000, I was in the seventh grade at a small junior high school in Decorah, Iowa, when I first encountered unadulterated, pure evil, and it was in the ISS room. At that time in my life, I rarely got into trouble, unlike now. Trouble has a way of finding me now big time. Back then, however, I was pretty shy and introverted. I would usually panic when the teacher called on me; I'd stammer or mumble and look like a complete idiot. However, I guess I did pretty well on tests because I'd usually bring home straight 'A's. My parents were very proud and supportive.
So, what got me sent to ISS? Oh, wait. For those of you who were good kids in school, you probably don't remember what those three initials stand for. Let me refresh your memory. They stand for—In School Suspension. The ISS room, which served as the holding pen for troublemakers, deviants and the Future Criminals of America Club, had no windows and was in the basement of the school. The dreaded room was right next to the boiler room, so it was usually very hot, stuffy and dusty.
There was an old hag of a woman who was the supervisor. I'm sorry to portray her with such an unkind description, but she was really mean and made us sit with our hands folded all day, staring at the front wall. We actually did call her "The Hag." I remember seeing her each morning when she would have this horrendous scowl on her face and grumbled as she descended the stairs to the ISS room. One time I passed her and she smelled really bad. It was that old-people smell ramped up a few notches on the stink meter. Someone once told me she had been at that school since she graduated from it back in the Stone Age.
I sure won't forget the day and the event that landed me in a bucketful of trouble. It all centered on the class asshole and resident goof-off—Timmy Carlson. What Timmy lacked in brains, he made up for in class pranks, which usually involved something gross and most likely sexually oriented. One day Timmy brought in a condom. He filled it up with vanilla pudding and made it squirt out the front. He was showing some of the girls in the back of the room. Wendy…um…I can't remember her last name, screamed when he showed her.
As the teacher walked to the crime scene, Timmy panicked and shoved the condom onto my desk. I grabbed it to toss back to him and inadvertently squeezed it all over Miss Stewart. The class howled, and I turned beet red. She yanked the condom out of my hand and asked me to explain. Well, I stammered and mumbled as usual. No one in the class spoke up and Timmy Carlson had his head in a book, giggling. I think it was the first time I ever saw a teacher pull a student up by his ear and drag him to the principal's office—and it was me!
Needless to say, I raked in a week's worth of detention in ISS. My parents believed me that I had nothing to do with it, but I told them I was not a rat and wouldn't snitch on Timmy. So I figured I'd get in some reading or drawing while I sat in ISS. Little did I know that the supervisor from the Gestapo would browbeat me. The first two days of ISS were pure torture. Of course, I couldn't explain to my parents or friends how bad it was. No one would have believed me anyway.
On the third day, Evil entered the room, and I don't mean this metaphorically. Ms. Madeline Blackwell seemed to almost float into the room. All the students stared at her with mouths open. To say she was drop-dead gorgeous would be a huge understatement. Each boy immediately sprouted a large wooden bulge in the center of his pants. All the girls went gaga over her bright-red lips and her jet-black hair, pinned up. She wore a long red woolen skirt with a wide black belt. After pulling my eyes off her face and breasts, I slid my gaze down to the belt's shiny silver buckle. Something about that buckle caught my eye. I can still see it in my mind as clear as if it had just appeared yesterday. Etched ornate symbols surrounded a large honey-colored cat's eye gemstone. One time, I swear it blinked. I know that sounds outrageous.
When Ms. Blackwell relieved The Hag, we all breathed a collective sigh of relief. The Hag didn't go gracefully at first. She was argumentative and unwilling to go. Ms. Blackwell simply put her hand on The Hag's shoulder and bam, The Hag turned and walked out of the room. We never saw her again. There were rumors that The Hag had hung herself from the rafters in her basement. Apparently, they didn't discover the body for something like six months. Rats had devoured much of her flesh and the stench was so bad they had to burn the house down.
On my fourth day of ISS, I walked into the room and took my assigned seat. It was a few minutes before the bell rang. Everyone was quiet and in their seats. The door opened slowly as if by unknown forces and Ms. Blackwell stood in the frame. Immediately, it felt as if the temperature had gone up about twenty degrees. I felt faint, as did several other students. One small kid named Jimmy actually passed out. I wanted to look over at him, but I found myself riveted to her. She smiled this sardonic, sickly sweet grin that made my skin crawl. Everyone was fixated on her as she entered the room. Finally, as she turned toward her desk, I looked over at Jimmy, who had his head up and sported a wet chin from drool.
Then Evil spoke. I looked behind me and saw everyone's eyes roll back up into their heads. All my fellow detainees balled up their fists so tight I could see veins coming to the surface of their hands. Ms. Blackwell held their attention for the longest time. I was so scared and held my breath what seemed forever that I was on the verge of blacking out. Because I had turned my head to look at my classmates, I didn't see Ms. Blackwell appear at my desk.
"Young man, what is your name?" Ms. Blackwell asked with a voice that immediately elicited the fight-or-flight response. I felt trapped. My legs felt as if they had turned to silly putty.
"Heckel Casey," I mumbled with my head down.
"What an interesting name," she said.
Just as she was about to touch me, the principal came into the room.
"Ms. Blackwell, I need to have Heckel Casey come with me. His parents are here for him," Principal Edwards ordered.
Ms. Blackwell turned away from me and nodded her head. "Of course." She looked down at me with a sneer. For just a moment, I thought I had seen a slight tinge of blue wash over her eyes.
Before getting up, I looked over at everyone in the room and they all grinned like a Cheshire cat, including Ms. Blackwell.
Principal Edwards waited for me in the hall. I felt like I had just received a reprieve from the guillotine. I rubbed my throat for some reason.
Was it because I held my breath for so long watching the control Ms. Blackwell had over all my classmates? Was Evil about to strangle me or totally stop my breathing?
As I walked down the hall, I wondered what Ms. Blackwell had done to all the kids in ISS.
